Kevin Riordan: Facing Alzheimer's directly - and together

Though unmistakable in retrospect, Mom's symptoms were not obvious at first.

Her six grown children told her, and themselves, that plenty of older people are forgetful. Everybody misplaces keys and glasses and checkbooks, they said. Anybody can forget how to spell forty.

Boy, were we ever in denial. Our mother had - and still has - dementia, the umbrella term for Alzheimer's disease and similar disorders with little in the way of treatment, and no cure.

An estimated 5.4 million Americans have dementia, which saps people of the ability to handle the car, the checkbook, the cooking. Eventually they can no longer care for themselves or hold a conversation as the disease erodes the mind and the self.

Families and other caregivers also need help, which is what brought Teepa Snow to Cherry Hill last week. She cites the huge baby-boom generation, poor diets, and sedentary lifestyles, and the simple fact that people are living longer as she sounds the alarm about dementia.

"It's the epidemic of the 21st century," says the dementia-care specialist, 58, who lives near Chapel Hill, N.C. "It's the tsunami that's about to hit."

Snow's South Jersey workshops and training sessions for professional and family caregivers were sponsored by the Alzheimer's Foundation of America and Senior Helpers, a provider of home-care services in Camden, Burlington, Gloucester, and Salem Counties. More than 200 people attended.

"There isn't enough education out there," says Valerie Neighbors, of Senior Helpers, which assists about 70 families and is part of a national organization.

"It's important for the caregivers to know they don't have to do it alone," Neighbors says.

Snow, an occupational therapist who has worked with dementia patients for 33 years, mixes warmth, theatricality, and clinical clarity in her presentations.

Her portrayals of people with dementia are humane and humorous, but unflinching. Same with her evocations of loved ones who unintentionally startle, confuse, and even enrage patients with their fast movements, exasperated questions, and invasive touching.

And her neurological scans and, in particular, autopsy images of brains robbed of function by the disease were so brutally effective, it hurt me to look.

Snow says it's important for families to understand that, despite frequent appearances to the contrary, people with dementia aren't being cantankerous or self-indulgent.

"They're lost in their own lives," she says. "Their brains are dying."

In welcome contrast to such grimness, about 20 homemade, richly colored quilts were arrayed nearby. Many of the panels were personalized remembrances of loved ones by family members.

"The Alzheimer's Foundation has been encouraging families and caregivers to create the quilts since 2005," says Josie Di Chiara, the group's vice president for business development.

"They're a voice for those who aren't able to speak for themselves," she says. "It's a moving tribute."

Like the famous AIDS quilts of the late 1980s, the modest Alzheimer's creations offer reassurance to the grieving. We're all in this together.

at 856-779-3845 or kriordan@phillynews.com, or follow on Twitter @inqkriordan. Read the metro columnists' blog, "Blinq," at www.phillynews.com/blinq.